


Christmas Sucks (Most of the Time)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Customer service guy Dean, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, mistletoe as a plot device
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 02:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2796458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's working night shifts the week before Christmas, and everything is shit. The presents are shit, his coworkers are shit, and the customers are shit. Well, not ALL the customers are shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Sucks (Most of the Time)

"So, Dean - got anyone to kiss under the mistletoe this year?"

Dean groaned at the question, leaning his head on the counter in front of him. It was almost midnight, two days before Christmas - surprisingly, there were still a few dozen people in the story. Last-minute shoppers would be the death of him (along with all the other customer service workers). Jo, for example. Jo was killing him.

"Dean. Kissing buddy? You got one or not?" She leaned over the counter, blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She was two years younger at 18, and she had an obvious crush. 

_"No,_ Jo. I don't. Could you get the fuck off my counter?"

"I could, but I won't! You've got to be dating someone, Winchester. Trust me, I'll find out who it is!" She leaned back, giving him a quick wink before strolling back to her station. 

Dean leaned forward again, letting his forehead fall onto his arms. He'd been busy all night, customers flocking in to return gifts and trying to get discounts. He hated customer service, but his manager insisted that they needed "good faces in the front". Dean thought that was bullshit.

He waited for another ten minutes before any more shoppers came to try and get money off for items that were obviously _not_ on sale racks; two middle-aged women, both of which yelled in his face and made him feel like punching the closest Christmas tree. And that wasn't far - the store was filled up with the fake plastic ones, shimmering tinsel and colorful ornaments adorning each tree. He just wanted to knock down each one, break every ornament, personally escort every asshole customer out the front door.

"Heya, Winchester! Why the long face? Haven't found a Spock to your Kirk yet?" Charlie leaped onto the counter, gently setting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Dorothy and I were gonna go ice skating later. Wanna come with us?"

Leaning up felt far harder than it should have. "Don't wanna get in the way of you wooing her, Bradbury. Besides, I've still got another hour on shift."

She took off her mandatory Santa hat, rolling the white puffball on the top between her fingers. Her nails were painted in soft greens and reds, the fiery colors almost as bright as her hair. Charlie had tried to paint Dean's too, but he hadn't let her finish. He was too much of a scrooge for that much Christmas. 

"Why are you so anti-holiday?" 

"Why aren't  _you?_ It's shit for us, Charlie. Constant work, constant jackasses in the store. It's fucking cold, and then there's presents. I have to buy shit for people and help other people buy shit. I hate Christmas," Dean rose out of his chair, gesticulating wildly as he talked about how much hatred he had for the season. He kept talking for another minute, Charlie listening patiently and eventually putting the hat back on. 

Her voice was soft as she spoke. "Is part of it because you miss Sam?"

Dean froze, staring at her with wide eyes. He let his arms fall to his sides, expression hardening. "I'm gonna go see if anyone needs help picking stuff out," he muttered, pushing his chair under the counter as he got up. Charlie protested behind him, but he flipped the bird over his shoulder. Dean decided that sulking in empty aisles would be better than trying to apologize. He was too exhausted for that.

The toy aisles were filled with worried brothers and sisters, something that just made Dean feel worse. He decided to go to the bath and body section, but each aisle had at least two customers.  _Why the fuck do so many people want towels?_

Luckily, the next section was entirely empty - jewelry. The cheaper part of it, anyway. Dean walked behind a counter of silver and gold bracelets, resting behind the display and hoping that no one tried to ask him about diamonds or shit like that. He just needed some time to rest and recuperate. He didn't even care if his manager found him hiding - Crowley could get fucked by a decorative reindeer for all he cared.

The first floor of the store seemed pretty quiet, and Dean couldn't have been more thankful for that. He thought about getting out his phone and trying to call his brother, but the thought died fast when he realized Sam was probably asleep. He wouldn't want to talk to Dean, anyway -  _too busy being a fancy boarding school student._ Dean was so busy in his own head that he didn't even realize that someone had come up to the counter. 

"Um - sir?" The voice was soft, deep, and more than a little uncertain. Dean bolted up from his position, hurriedly adjusting his hat and getting ready to put on his "store-approved" smile. When he actually looked at the guy, he was surprised he could still stand. 

Dark brown hair, mussed from the wind outside and snowflakes still melting into it. His eyes were an electric blue, framed by dark circles that looked like the tiredness Dean felt. He had high cheekbones, colored pink from the cold like his nose. And his  _lips -_ Jesus. Full and chapped, and entirely kissable. He stood almost eye-to-eye with Dean, maybe an inch shorter. He looked a little older than Dean, possibly twenty-two or twenty-three. Timidness made all of his features seem to turn down, and the last thing Dean wanted was to make this Adonis look sad. He'd speak, say something something funny - just as soon as he was able to.

"Oh, uh... hi! Hey, my name's Dean," he pointed quickly at his name tag, realizing quickly how stupid that was. "What do you need help with?"  _Why are you offering help? You don't even work in this fucking department!_

"Yes, I need a bracelet. Something small, not too expensive." The guy's voice was warm enough to melt all the snow in town; it was also hot enough to make Dean want to rip his clothes off. 

"Bracelets, yeah, yeah - what kind? For your mom, sister... girlfriend?"  _Smooth._

The man shook his head at the last suggestion, a gentle smile gracing his features. "No, no girlfriend. My older sister is quite fond of jewelry, so... yes. I believe a bracelet would be nice."

Dean smiled wider than he should have, hoping to God that he didn't look insane with all this genuine smiling. "Cool. My brother really likes tech stuff, so I had to ship all his stuff in a month early to get there in time," Dean messed with the bracelets behind the display case, hurriedly checking prices and starting off with something at fifty. "This, maybe?"

The guy leaned forward, gently taking the silver band out of Dean's hands. He had nice hands - long fingers, kind of calloused. A few flecks of paint were on his nails and covering his wrist. Dean couldn't help asking about it. 

"Are you a painter?"

Blue-eyes looked up, almost startled at the question. He smiled again, mouth barely quirking up enough for Dean to see. "Yes, I am. I had to visit straight from my studio. This was the only place still open." 

Dean laughed lightly, responding quickly. "It's also the only place that'll torture the workers this late." 

The man nodded in agreement, handing back the bracelet. "It does seem unfair to have you all here at this time. You deserve to be home with your families. You deserve to be with your brother, Dean." A chill went down his spine when he heard the guy say his name - he said it differently. Like it was special.

Dean put the silver circle back, tugging out something gold this time. "Yeah, well, that'd be great. He's up in boarding school, real fancy place. Proud of him, but I miss him like hell." The man stared at him for a moment, eyes a mix of sad and - curious, almost?

This time, the bracelet got a reaction - Blue-eyes held it closer to his face, running a nail in the grooves of the gold. It was simple, just a yellow band with branches and leaves etched into the sides; apparently, though, that was perfect. Dean watched as the man lit up, smiling widely and admiring the object. It was a really good look on him.

"This is perfect. The price?"  _Oh shit._

"Uh - hold on, I forgot to check. You kept _distracting_ me," Dean winked for effect, sinking back into his old flirting habits. When he looked at the guy again, a pink blush was spreading across his cheeks. Dean smirked while he checked the price, glad to find that this one was only seventy dollars. "Seventy bucks for this. The store has this deal-"

Dean stopped speaking when he saw a small green bundle fly from the left, smacking the customer in the face. He leaned bock in shock, holding a hand to his cheek. Dean was about to start apologizing when he saw what the bundle actually  _was._

Mistletoe. 

This hot customer had just been hit in the face with mistletoe. 

_Shit._

"What-" Blue-eyes started talking, but Dean was too busy running around to the other side of the department, a pair of red-and-blonde heads clearly visible behind a ring display. 

"Excuse me, sir. Just a second. CHARLIE!  _JO!"_

Dean ran to them, finding the girls hunched over and giggling crazily. "What in the fucking  _fuck_ was that? You just lost me a customer!"

Charlie shook her head, Jo mimicking the motion. "He's still there, lover-boy. Looks awfully interested, if you ask me."

"What?"

Jo sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Every time you turned around, he kept giving you sappy looks." 

"Or checking out your ass," Charlie supplied, giving a suggestive wink. 

Dean rolled his eyes, standing back up and telling them to get the fuck away. They promised they would, but with a condition. 

_Just kiss him one time. Even on the cheek! If you don't, we'll throw more. We have twenty bundles of this shit, Winchester._ Dean thought about what they'd said as he walked over, Blue-eyes looking as lost as he had when he first came in.  _Just kiss him one time._

"Hey, I'm real sorry about that-"

"Did they throw mistletoe at us?" Blue-eyes interjected, head tilted to the side. Dean thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest - that look was far too adorable on a twenty-something-year-old man. 

"Yeah, they did. They also said that they would throw more unless we... uh...well." Dean stopped, cleared his throat. He look down at the bracelet, admired the other jewels in the display case, and generally looked at everything but the guy across from him.

"Unless?"

"They want us to - um. Well, they said they wanted me to kiss you," Dean breathed out the last words, a stream of syllables that was barely loud enough to hear. "I'm sorry about them, they're just-"

"May I?"

Dean stops, green eyes locking with blue. "What?"

"May I kiss you? It is tradition, after all." The soft blush returned to his cheeks, expression soft and unwavering. "I'm sorry, I should not have asked that. I-"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yeah, you can kiss me. Or I can kiss you. We could kiss each other. Whatever you want, I guess," Dean shrugged, trying to make this whole thing sound less awkward. But Blue-eyes didn't seem to find it awkward at all, no - not from the soft grin on his face.

He leaned over the counter, gently placing a hand on Dean's cheek. His fingers were warm and gentle, thumb stroking along his cheekbone. In one swift motion, he was there - lips warm and moving against his mouth, hand shifting to thread in Dean's hair. Whoever this guy was, he wasn't expecting some soft, playful kiss - he was going for it, tongue teasing along Dean's lower lip and even nipping at his mouth. His hands were gentle, though - stroking along Dean's neck, the other wrapped over his hand on the counter. He pulled back before Dean could even participate, giving one last peck against his cheek before moving away. 

Dean opened his eyes slowly, Blue-eyes having lost all his confidence. He was slumping forward, posture shy and closed-off. His lips were parted slightly, and Dean wanted them back. He knew how they tasted, what they felt like - he  _really_ wanted them back. 

"What's your name?"

"Castiel," The man supplied softly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Castiel. Cas," Dean said, leaning back over the counter and grabbing at Castiel's scarf. He pulled him back in, lips an inch apart. "How do you feel about doing that again, Cas?"

Dean's answer was a hot mouth against his, arms tugging him as close as the counter would allow. 

**Author's Note:**

> (UNEDITED)   
> thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!  
> feedback/prompts are always appreciated~


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